


The Dreams Like Me

by casstayinmyass



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bisexual Male Character, Canon Compliant, Crossover Pairings, Fluff, Goth Brian, Horny Teenagers, Horror, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Johnilyn AU, Kissing, M/M, Preppy Glen, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Two inhabitants of Elm Street learn of their connection to a deceased child murderer. Problem is, neither like dealing with problems... especially when their hands are so busy.
Relationships: Glenn Lantz/Brian Warner, Johnny Depp/Marilyn Manson
Kudos: 7





	The Dreams Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. I don't know. This just popped into my head while trying to sleep. Johnilyn au!

Iron Maiden played on the record player, skipping every now and again, but not enough to be noticed by those who were listening.

Brian Warner was too busy with his fingers in a shirtless Glen Lantz’s hair, running through the curls and watching them bounce. Glen’s eyes were closed and hands were folded over his stomach, enjoying the sensation of getting a free scalp massage.

“This is silky,” the teenage rocker muttered, “Feels like my pubic hair.”

Glen’s eyes rolled up to look at his boyfriend. “You run your hands through your pubic hair a lot?”

“It’s a bi-product of jacking off,” Brian smirked, “You can’t not touch your pubic hair if you’re down there already.”

Glen groaned. “Stop talking about pubic hair, Jesus.”

Brian hummed, and quieted down, going back to picking and prodding at the other boy’s hair. His hands brushed down to his chest, and Glen reached up to take them. This lead to Brian bending to give Glen an upside down kiss, and that, of course, lead to making out. 

The two had been dating for almost a year now. It had been the couple at school that nobody had seen coming—Glen was a preppy, ‘good’ kid, with high morals and definitely not the stomach for dating the guy who basically lived in the principal’s office. Glen had his friend groups, with Tina and Nancy, and Brian had his, with Jeordie and Stephen, but ever since the goth student had shared his fries with Glen, they had been inseparable.

“I need a tattoo.”

“A tattoo?” Brian smiled, “Aw. How sweet. I’m rubbing off on you.”

Glen blushed deep. “Shut up.”

“I think you should get a little bunny rabbit bouncing above your dick and… taking a dump on it. But get the shit filled in pink, so people will think they’re on LSD when they look at you naked.”

“No! And it’s not because of you I want one. You’ve just helped me see that ink can be beautiful.” Now it was Brian’s turn to blush.

“Mine aren’t _beautiful_. They’re just… there.”

“I think they’re cool,” Glen shrugs. “You drew some yourself, even.”

“Just dumb monster doodles and some eyeballs.”

“Wish I could do that.”

“Well. Don’t get any tattoos unless you know what you want, I don’t wanna hear you complaining forever about the big heart with my name in it you got tattooed on your bicep.”

“In your dreams,” Glen scoffed. They’re quiet for a moment, listening to a guitar solo and the fan sitting on the radiator.

“Glen?”

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of dreams… you ever get weird ones?” The record skipped, then corrected. Glen looked up again.

“All I get are weird dreams. That’s why they’re dreams.” Brian let his boyfriend’s head go, and the other boy sat up to face him. He sucked on his lip ring thoughtfully, black hair curtaining his long, pensive face.

“I mean _weird_. Like, truly scary nightmare shit you wanna make yourself forget.”

Glen shrugged. “Everyone gets nightmares. I once dreamed my dog turned into a goat and started eating my toes.”

“This is different.” Brian shook his head, staring out the window of the suburban Elm Street house. “I dreamed of this guy. He had really sharp fingers, or something fucked up about his hands and skin.”

Glen felt the blood leave his face. He tried to keep it cool for Brian.

“Mm yeah? Huh.”

“It was crazy. It started out like me at a rock show, and I was performing, but not? Then I was suddenly in the crowd, and watching someone perform. It looked like me, but I was older. My right eye was a different colour. Then when I got up to the stage through the pit, everyone around me disappeared, and this guy looked right at me. He began to transform, and all his… my, skin began to fall off, exposing my skull. And it was him, it was the guy.” Glen watched Brian, enraptured, while he told his story, unable to glance away. “Anyway, he came after me in the pit, ran me backstage. I think his name was Fred something.”

_Fred Krueger._

Glen cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face. “Ah. That _is_ weird, babe.”

Brian eyed him. “Do you believe in the supernatural?”

“No.”

“Do you believe in demons?”

“No.”

“With me as your boyfriend, you really should.”

“Why?” Glen leaned forward, pecking Brian on the cheek, “Cause you’re a demon?”

“No dumbass, cause I write about them.”

“I thought you wanted to be a journalist.”

“I write horror stories as well. I just sent one off last week for publication.” Brian picked at a scab on his bony wrist. “They never write back, so maybe my writing’s the real nightmare.”

Glen got up and changed the record to Ozzy Osbourne’s _Bark At The Moon._ He feigned a sympathetic sigh.

“That must be it.”

Brian grinned, rolling his eyes and tossing a pillow at the other boy. Glen laughed, hopping down to return to Brian’s lanky arms on the floor of his bedroom. 

“Why don’t you write your story about your nightmares? They seem publishable. I’d sure read them.”

Brian shrugged. “I’ve tried before. They never come out quite right.”

“Well,” Glen huffed, blushing a little bit as he climbed over. “You could throw in a sex scene or two.”

“You mean, write porn?” Brian’s eyebrows wiggled, and he got on top of Glen.

“Yeah.” Glen’s face continued to burn red hot as he looked down between them. “What would you write about, if it was starring the two of us?”

Brian chuckled, eyes dark and searching as his hand reached down to palm the bulge in Glen’s jeans. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

There was a few knocks on the door. “Glen? Are you and Brian doing your homework in there?”

Glen’s eyes widened, and he sat up quickly, knocking his head into his boyfriend’s. “Uh— _owww_ \-- of course, ma! Why do you ask?”

They heard tutting. “I just don’t know how you do it. Listening to loud music like that while trying to focus on your work.”

“I can’t do my homework without it, Mrs. Lantz,” Brian called, and Glen punched him playfully in the gut. Brian doubled over, and they both spread out on the floor again.

“Do you need me to bring you any lemonade?” The door handle started to turn.

“NO! Oh… oh, we’re just so deep in history books, we… we can’t possibly distract ourselves with refreshments.”

“The enslaved gladiators in ancient Rome never had refreshments,” Brian said.

“That’s a very good point. Thanks ma, we’ll be going back to our studies now!”

They listened to her disappearing footsteps and continued tutting, then went back to their previous position.

“We never talked about your hair,” Glen grins, moving it out of his boyfriend’s face, “You’re always hiding behind it.”

“I feel most comfortable when I’m hiding,” Brian murmurs.

“You shouldn’t. You’re beautiful, you know. You’re one of the few beautiful people that I know.”

“Beautiful people… that’d make a good song.”

“Hey, I mean it.”

Brian never accepts the compliments, but he nodded in appreciation. “That’s better than what everyone calls me at school, I guess.”

“Don’t pay any attention to them, sweetheart. You’ve already got enough trouble in your dreams with Freddy Krueger after you, that—”

Brian’s eyes widened. “You have had dreams about him!”

Glen swallowed, tried to recover his ground. “I-I just… you, you told me his name, didn’t you?”

“Nuh uh,” Brian shook his head, “I knew it. Who the fuck is this guy, and what does he want with us?”

“Bri, it’s a dream,” Glen fought back, “A dream! A fucking dream, he can’t get you. Nobody can get you if he’s not real.”

“He was pretty real when he gave me this.” Brian lifted up his top, to reveal a deep slash on his left pectoral. Beads of dried blood cracked through the openings in the split skin that hadn’t healed yet. Glen’s lips parted in shock, and he traced his fingertips over the tender, still-fresh wound. “This isn’t…”

“It’s not one of mine,” Brian shook his head. “I couldn’t go this deep with a bottle if I tried.”

Glen collapsed into the carpet, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “This doesn’t make sense. It’s not logical!”

“There’s something going on.”

“Just… try to forget it? Please?” Glen begged. “Let’s have a good night.”

“You’d better call your mom back in here,” Brian smirked, “You’re gonna need those refreshments, for everything I’m gonna do to you tonight.”

Glen jumped on his bed, Brian following in a tackle. Through feverish kisses, the shorter haired boy turned out the lamp… he couldn’t have his boyfriend discovering the three knife slashes down his thigh. 


End file.
